


Oceans and Lullabies

by ScarletEyesInTheNight123456789



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2020-12-24 15:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletEyesInTheNight123456789/pseuds/ScarletEyesInTheNight123456789
Summary: There are many uncertainties in life, but one thing is indisputable - Kurapika will do anything to protect Prince Woble, even if that means teaming up with the one who took everything away from him all those years ago.But little does he know, his enemy is about to shake his very existence, forcing him to question everything he thought he knew about destiny and logic.In the end, it will all come down to a simple choice: love or vengeance?





	1. Chapter 1

Kurapika had always been one to notice the things around him, even the smallest, seemingly insignificant things. A foxbear cub lingering behind a bush, hoping for his and Pairo’s attention. The look of wonder in Gon’s eyes as he’d looked out of the window of the airship on their way to the Republic of Padokea. The uncharacteristic look of concern that Neon had given him as he had hurried out of the Nostrade mansion with guilt heavy in his heart.

And now was no different. As he stood guard in front of the door that led to the rest of the ship, Kurapika’s gaze kept drifting over to the closed kitchen door. Pots and pans clanged, Woble was whimpering in the same way that she always did before beginning to cry incessantly, and Oito was making gentle shushing noises.

“Kurapika?”

Kurapika looked to his left and realized that Bill had spoken. “Hm? What is it, Bill?”

“You seem a little off today. Perhaps you should go rest. I can handle guard duty by myself for a while.”

Kurapika mustered one of his forced smiles that always felt so wrong, so fake. “I’m fine, Bill. I really am.”

As usual, Bill didn’t press him any further.

Several more minutes passed in silence, until Kurapika saw the kitchen door open.

Oito stood in the doorway, looking directly at Kurapika with anger blazing in her dark eyes. “Kurapika, I’d like a word.” Her tone was deceivingly calm and collected.

“Of course, Queen Oito.”

Kurapika could tell from Bill’s expression that he was just as confused as Kurapika was. As Oito made to walk back into the kitchen, Bill shot him a questioning look, to which Kurapika replied with a shrug as he followed her.

Kurapika had never actually been inside of the kitchen before. Shimano was busying herself with laying the table and kept sending Kurapika nervous glances. Oito walked over to the large windows overlooking the sunset, and Kurapika followed her. As he passed Woble’s highchair, Woble looked up at him and squealed, lifting her arms as if hoping that he would pick her up. The corners of his lips turned up into a small smile.

“Take a seat,” said Oito, without looking at Kurapika, her gaze fixed on the vast amount of ocean before them.

The only other chair was the one closest to Woble. He sat down, and Shimano rushed out of the room, muttering something about dusting the living room.

“Queen Oito, is something the matter?”

She stood still, looking out of the window for so long that he wondered whether or not she had even heard him. “Just make sure that you stay focused on your task, no matter what may occur.” Uncharacteristic coldness seeped through her words.

For once in a long time, Kurapika was utterly speechless. “Has something happened, Queen Oito?”

She shook her head no, and Kurapika had to restrain himself from questioning her further. He had to know his place, after all. But the curiosity gnawed away at every core of his being.

After a few moments of silence, Kurapika got up to leave. Woble started to whimper and reached her arms out to Kurapika again.

“She wants you to pick her up,” said Oito. Kurapika turned around to find that Oito was looking at Woble with a slightly softer look in her eyes.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..............................................................

An hour later, as Kurapika stood guard at the door again, he could hear Bill snickering.

“She still doesn’t want you to put her down?”

“Apparently not.” It was true. Woble had clung to Kurapika for the past hour, protesting every attempt Kurapika made to give her back to Oito, Shimano, or even Bill.

“And you still have no clue what Oito wants?”

“No.” Kurapika looked down at Woble and realized that she was asleep. She breathed in and out softly, her tiny hand loosely grasping Kurapika’s own hand.

“I’ll take her to her crib now,” he said quietly to Bill, who seemed to be holding back a smirk. Maybe two years ago Kurapika would have made a lighthearted joke in response. But now? Now, everything was different.

When he got to the nursery, he found that Oito and Shimano were not there. He gently settled Woble down into her crib.

He was beyond exhausted. He found himself sitting down in the rocking chair next to the crib, wondering how Woble was able to sleep so peacefully.

He decided to keep watch over the young prince until Oito or Shimano returned, when he heard footsteps frantically running down the hallway.

“Kurapika!” Bill stood in the doorway, speaking so loudly that Woble began to stir in her sleep. His expression terrified Kurapika enough that he abruptly stood up.

“What is it?”

“The queen and Shimano aren’t in the quarters at all.”

“What do you mean? Weren’t we guarding the entrance to the quarters the entire time?”

“I know! But I’ve checked everywhere, and they’re nowhere to be found.”

If it hadn’t been for his immense trust in Bill, then Kurapika would have begun to suspect him of attempting to lead Kurapika into a trap.

His heart began to pound loudly. He blocked out everything from his mind that didn’t relate to protecting the ones around him. Nothing existed except for the mission at hand.

“Stay here with the prince, Bill. I’ll check everything out.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Once Kurapika had finished checking every last nook and cranny of room 1014, he was still just as dumbfounded as he had been before beginning his search.

He had to inform someone, _someone_. He rushed over to the phone on the wall and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror next to the phone.

He looked completely composed. There was no hint that he was more afraid than he had been even when Gon and Killua had been taken hostage by the Phantom Troupe. Wild speculations that didn’t completely make sense began to overtake his brain.

Then, he heard a frantic knocking at the front door. He was snapped out of his panic and was now fully in bodyguard mode, determined to figure out what was happening.

He opened the door, prepared to use his chains if necessary.

He stared, completely perplexed. “Prince Fugetsu?”

But before he could ask how she had snuck past her guards in order to come all the way over here, before he could ask why she would come to Woble’s quarters at all, she rushed towards him with pure panic written all over her face and gripped his arms so tightly that it hurt.

“Your majesty –“

“You have to come see.” Her voice sounded strangled, and her eyes were brimming with tears.

“See what?” He had seen Fugetsu before at the banquet and on television, but he had never spoken to her even once before. But he had seen enough of her to know that she was usually calm and cheerful, completely unlike her current demeanor. Which meant that something truly serious must have happened.

“Almost everyone on the ship has disappeared!” she said.

“How do you know this, your majesty?”

“I checked the lower decks!”

She’d been able to bypass security and get onto the lower decks? Many questions went through his mind, but he managed to settle on a few. “And who did you see there? Who else hasn’t disappeared, Prince Fugetsu?”

Something changed in the young prince’s expression, and she averted her gaze.

“Some people that … that you’ve met before,” she said softly.

There was a brief silence. “How would you know whether or not they’ve met me before, Prince Fugetsu?”

Another pause. “I’ll tell you if you come with me to the lower decks.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Thanks for reading my story! I always strive to improve my writing and love to hear from readers of my stories, so let me know what you did or didn’t like about the story in the comments section! 
> 
> I am also looking for a beta reader for this story, so please let me know if you would be interested :)

“I refuse.” Kurapika’s words hung in the air for a moment. “Please come inside so that we can discuss the situation with my fellow bodyguard.”

He braced himself to hear some arguing. After all, Gon and Killua were the same age as Fugetsu, and they would have certainly put up a fuss the moment they heard Kurapika say the word no. But by the time he had finished putting the deadbolt on the front door, he realized that Fugetsu was standing in the middle of the living room in complete silence, looking up at Kurapika expectantly, tears still streaming down her face.

“I understand that this situation is very out of hand right now, Prince Fugetsu, but please try to remain calm. You need to be able to think clearly if anything happens.”

She didn’t reply, but nodded obediently.

She and Kurapika headed to the nursery, and Kurapika explained to Bill everything that had just happened. The entire time, Kurapika did his best to shut down his panic.

At the end of Kurapika’s explanation, Bill turned towards Fugetsu, whose tears had subsided greatly. “Prince Fugetsu –“

She shook her head. “You guys don’t need to use my title. It’s fine, I promise.”

“Okay,” Bill said, looking a little perplexed. “Well, I want to ask you who exactly you saw downstairs. Did they approach you? What are their names? What do they look like?”

“One question at a time, Bill,” Kurapika muttered under his breath, his high stress level finally impacting his temper.

And then something happened that caused everyone in the room to go silent.

The doorbell rang.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t particularly care to answer that,” Bill said.

To Kurapika’s surprise, Fugetsu bit her lip as though trying not to laugh at Bill’s joke.

“What should we do?” Bill then asked more seriously. “Answer it or not answer it?”

Before Kurapika could even think about this question, they heard the front door creak open.

As the sound of footsteps approached the room, Kurapika and Bill immediately stood up, shielding both Fugetsu and Woble.

The footsteps were slow, leisurely. This was the sound of someone with an endless amount of arrogance, someone who knew that he was so powerful that there was no need to rush when it came to taking out his opponents.

Then, the person appeared in the open doorway of the nursery.

An angular face that had foolishly been painted so that he resembled a clown, bright red hair that had been slicked back, and clothing that probably belonged in a circus…

“I’m warning you right now.” Kurapika could feel his voice becoming cold as ice and could feel his heartbeat going into a rage. His eyes must have been a terrifying scarlet, even though Hisoka was smiling in a mocking way. “If you do anything to hurt the kids, death will be preferable to what I’ll do to you.”

“I see. You think I’m here with the intent to harm all of you?” Hisoka laughed a bit. “Why, I’m here to help you, Kurapika.”

“What – You know this guy, Kurapika?” Bill asked with an incredulous look.

“I don’t know if you can really say that, Bill,” Kurapika said, never once taking his eyes off of Hisoka, whose gold eyes were looking on with amusement. “After all, if I really knew him, I would know why he’s on the Black Whale or why he’s broken into a prince’s room. Or maybe why he’s trying to play with us right now instead of being straightforward.”

Hisoka chuckled again. “You’ve changed. You have a more serious vibe about you, I must say –“

“Shut up!” Kurapika shouted suddenly. He could hear Woble whimpering in her sleep and knew that she would wake in a matter of minutes. “What do you want from me right now?”

“I believe that we can help each other achieve our goals,” Hisoka said nonchalantly, a strange gleam in his eyes.

Kurapika brought out his Dowsing Chain. “Do you intend to harm or deceive anyone in this room?”

Hisoka eyed the chain with interest. “No.”

Kurapika could hear the clock ticking in the background. Precious seconds were being wasted, when they could be figuring out where everyone on the ship was.

“What is your objective, Hisoka?”

“To kill all of the Phantom Troupe members, including Chrollo. What does that nen ability of yours do, I wonder? Does it detect whether or not I am telling the truth?”

“I might tell you if you answer the rest of my questions.”

“Interesting. So, I will be rewarded for this?”

“Quiet. Anyways, how do you plan on working together with us? Is the Phantom Troupe on board? And do you know why everyone has disappeared? How did you know I was on board?”

“Hmm, those are a lot of questions –“

“Stay on topic.”

“Yes, the Troupe is on the ship at this very moment –“

“Why are they here? Are they awake?”

“It’s rude to interrupt, you know –“

“Fine. Continue.”

“I believe they are here in order to hunt both of us down. Yes, they are awake downstairs. I plan on working with you in order to kill the entire Troupe and restore everyone who has disappeared. I believe that everyone has disappeared due to one of Chrollo’s abilities. He has done all of this in order to draw both me and you out, I believe. And I knew that you were on board from overhearing a conversation between two Zodiac members.” He said all of this as though talking about the weather.

“Do you understand how Chrollo’s ability works?”

“I overheard him saying that the restriction for the ability is that everyone will return unharmed within forty-eight hours. Therefore, the smart thing to do would be to wait for that long before confronting him, so that we do not do what he is expecting us to do and fall into whatever trap he has laid for us.”

Kurapika sighed and finally retracted his chain.

Then, he heard Woble begin to wail. As he made to take her out of her crib, he continued speaking to Hisoka. “What kind of plan did you have in mind, exactly?”

Hisoka watched as Kurapika sat down in the rocking chair, holding Woble in his arms. Hisoka then looked around the room, picked up a random teddy bear that had fallen to the floor, and handed it to Kurapika. “Perhaps this will help,” Hisoka said with that infuriating tone in his voice that usually meant he was highly amused by other people’s antics.

Kurapika swore under his breath and snatched the bear from Hisoka. “Hisoka, could you please leave?” he said, pointing the teddy bear at the door furiously.

“Kurapika, you need to calm down. You’re getting both of the kids worked up,” said Bill, looking at Kurapika sternly.

He was right. Woble’s crying had intensified, and Fugetsu was looking at Kurapika hesitantly.

Thankfully, Bill managed to usher Hisoka out. Kurapika had to admit that he was mildly curious about what Bill and Hisoka were up to now.

“Are you okay, Prince Fugetsu?” Kurapika asked once Bill and Hisoka had left.

A small but genuine smile broke out on her face. “I’m fine. And remember, you don’t need to call me by my title.”

Then, he remembered the things she had said earlier. “How did you know that I knew the Phantom Troupe? Did they see you?” he said over Woble’s cries.

“They told me that they knew you and said to bring you downstairs in order to help bring everyone back.” There was a pause that was filled only with Woble’s sobs.

“Shhhhh,” he said to Woble, trying to imitate what he’d seen Oito do before. But it didn’t work. He felt bad for Woble, so small and helpless and distressed.

“She likes music. It helps her calm down,” Fugetsu said softly.

He turned to Fugetsu. “Thank you for telling me. But why didn’t you say so earlier?”

She blushed and looked down.

Kurapika sighed. “Be more assertive, Your Majesty – I mean, Fugetsu. You can help both yourself and others out if you take the initiative.”

“Okay,” she said embarrassedly. “You take the initiative a lot, don’t you?”

“I do. Woble wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Fugetsu stood up and rummaged through a box on the floor until she found a toy. She clicked a button and it began to play a soothing melody.

“Thank you,” Kurapika said. Woble was now silent. He felt a pang of emotion, something he couldn’t exactly place. The way that Woble clung to him in her sleep as though he were her lifeline, the way that she’d gripped his tie with her tiny fist and buried her face into his shoulder, the way he could feel her breathing calmly against him….

“No problem. You’re good with kids, aren’t you?”

Kurapika had never thought of himself in that way before. “I…suppose so.” Maybe that had been why he had gotten along so well with Gon and Killua. “Why do you say that?”

“You know how to hold a baby properly.”

“When I was a lot younger, my best friend and I used to look after the other children in our village sometimes when their parents were busy.”

“A village?” Kurapika had to smile at the look of wonder on Fugetsu’s face. It was a look he’d seen many hunters wear when thinking about exploring the world and discovering new places. No, not just hunters. Pairo, as well. “I wish I could live somewhere like that. What was it like?”

“It was….” He normally tried not to think about the Kurta Clan in detail too much. “It was really peaceful and was a lot of fun.” He knew that Fugetsu could sense that he didn’t want to say much more about the topic.

She nodded. “I guess I’ll go to bed now.”

“You can take the queen’s room for now. If you need anything, please let me or Bill know.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

A few minutes after Fugetsu left, he placed Woble in her crib and thought of the last words that Pairo had ever said to him: _“When you return… I’ll have just one question. ‘Was it fun?’ I’ll ask that, so that you have to have such a journey such that you can answer ‘Yes’ from the bottom of your heart.” _

But he would never be able to fulfill that promise. His heart was set on revenge, and that part of him that had once yearned for adventure was long gone.

He looked at Woble in her crib, even more fragile than Pairo had been. He had failed Pairo, but he would never go back on his promise to Woble.

“I’ll keep you safe, no matter what,” he whispered to Woble, hoping that the words would reach her dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

Woble’s slow, soft breaths cast a hushed spell over the room. Her expression held no fear, no sorrow, no guilt as her dreams took her somewhere far more peaceful than Kurapika’s reality. She didn’t stir as Kurapika dimmed the lights, and after checking her crib one last time, he left the nursery quietly.

In the living room, he found Bill standing next to the sofa, his arms crossed, his face pensive.

“Where’s Hisoka?”

“Oh, him? He said he had things to do and might come back if he’s needed later.” Bill shrugged. “Good thing he’s gone, though. That guy gives me the creeps. Beats me how you seem to get along with him.”

Kurapika shook his head, admiring Bill’s sarcasm. “So that’s how you interpreted our interaction, is it?”

Bill chuckled. “Well, look at that,” he said, his tone satisfied. “You smiled for real this time.”

Kurapika paused, putting a hand to his face in surprise. The muscles in his face felt loose, not nearly as tense as they had been before.

“Is Woble asleep?” Bill asked, and the atmosphere became serious once more.

“Yes.” Kurapika looked around the corner, thinking. “I’ll need to prepare a bottle of milk for her when she wakes up. She hasn’t been fed in a while.”

Bill placed a comforting hand on Kurapika’s shoulder, reminding him of Leorio. “Look, Kurapika. You don’t need to do everything yourself. I’ll take care of her when she wakes up, and you should get some sleep in the meantime.”

Kurapika sighed. “Thank you, Bill, but I’m afraid I can’t rest right now. We still need to think about how to deal with the Phantom Troupe –“

“I’ll think of a plan and tell you about it when you wake up.” His eyes shone with kindness, despite his usual joking demeanor. “You’ve done a lot for us so far. I don’t think I can ever begin repaying you for it, but I can at least try by making sure you take care of yourself.”

For a moment, all Kurapika could do was stare. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had thought about his well-being. When had been the last time someone had come forth to stop him from destroying himself? Had it been Melody? Or maybe Gon?

This time, he didn’t smile. But there was no need, for he knew that the look in his eyes conveyed it all. “Thank you,” Kurapika said.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

By the time Kurapika awoke, the sun had just barely risen over the horizon. The hands of the clock mounted on the wall informed him that six hours had passed. He had fallen into a deep slumber as quickly as Woble had, his body collapsing onto his bed after reaching its limit.

After getting dressed, he entered the living room. Bill was standing guard at the front entrance, his forehead creased with worry, while Fugetsu and Woble played on a soft blanket on the floor.

“You’re awake.” Fugetsu walked over to where Kurapika was, standing before him hesitantly. “Bill’s come up with a strategy for how to fix everything.”

“That sounds great. What were you thinking of doing –“

And then Kurapika heard it: three ticks of a clock, piercing the air, drowning out both his words and Woble’s babbling. Fugetsu didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bill certainly had.

It didn’t take long for Kurapika to find the source of the foreboding noise.

He took slow steps toward Woble and knelt down on the blanket. Woble looked up at Kurapika with bright blue eyes and cooed, hugging a stuffed turtle close to her, completely unaware of the menacing aura that had been enforced around her. It was such a dark purple that it was almost black, twisting and coiling around itself like a vine. This was a nen curse, a particular type that he was all too familiar with.

Then, a woman’s scream sounded from downstairs, its shattering echo accelerating Kurapika’s heartbeat.

“Bill, stay here with the princes!” Kurapika didn’t look back to see whether or not Bill had heeded the warning and only faintly registered his shout of, “Kurapika, what are you doing?” before exiting the room.

Kurapika rushed through the hall, his footsteps the only sound to be heard. He knew and yet didn’t know what he was doing, relying on both the logic and instincts that had kept him out of danger for so long.

But when he flung open the door at the end of the hall and reached the second deck, he froze.

He counted nine bodies lying on the floor in puddles of crimson. Feitan. Franklin. Bonolenov. Shizuku. Nobunaga. Hisoka. Illumi. And….

Machi, Phinks, and Kalluto were gathered around Chrollo’s still form, kneeling by his side. If it weren’t for his soft, rasping breaths that tethered him to life, it would be easy to mistake Chrollo as yet another one of the eight corpses in the room.

Whatever Hisoka had done, he had certainly gotten his revenge, and in more ways than one. He was undoubtedly the reason that Chrollo was now lain on the floor, clutching the fatal wound in his stomach, his face pale, his eyelids fluttering as though he were preventing himself from falling into a sleep that he would never wake from.

But this must have been about more than simply harming the leader of the troupe. No, Hisoka must have known the anguish that he would cause by having the last remaining limbs of the spider watch as their comrades hovered on the brink of death and eventually faded away.

Phinks had buried his head in his hands, sobbing, showing the kind of vulnerability that Kurapika had never expected to see from a man so harsh and stoic. Kalluto, on the other hand, wore an expression of shocked horror as he looked at Chrollo, some amount of emotion stirring within him despite years of being trained to seek out and welcome death. And Machi leaned over Chrollo, so close that her teardrops landed on his face as she pleaded with him. “Please,” she said over and over again, and Kurapika wondered if she knew that her words would do nothing to stop the god of death from separating her from her leader.

And then Machi wrenched her gaze away from Chrollo, sheer pain in her expression, before meeting Kurapika’s eyes.

She stilled for a moment, and Kurapika couldn’t gauge what she thought of him standing there, watching the troupe grieve.

It wasn’t his duty to heal a monster wearing the mask of a human. It wasn’t up to him to save a man who may well have been the one to look Pairo in the eye as he took his life.

But Woble’s nen curse could not be removed unless the caster was still alive.

Kurapika brought out his chains and stepped forward, thoughts of Prince Woble’s innocent laughter rushing his mind.

And, with hatred rushing through his veins, he healed the monster before him, blessing him with life.


	4. Chapter 4

A chilling breeze rushed in through the window that Fugetsu had opened earlier, rustling both the pleated drapes and the dark locks of the unconscious young man who had been carefully placed on the sofa by his enemy as his comrade had looked on.

“Thank you,” Machi had said, not meeting Kurapika’s eyes, her shoulders tense. “I won’t ever forget this.”

“I didn’t do this for you. You know that.”

She had nodded, closing her eyes. “I know.”

And now Kurapika stood perfectly still in front of the entrance to the eighth queen’s quarters, never releasing his gaze from Chrollo Lucilfer, who was moments away from waking. He could tell from the way that he had tilted his head to the side, so imperceptibly that Kurapika had been lucky to notice it.

Chrollo’s lips moved ever so slightly in his sleep, mouthing words so faint that Kurapika needed to move closer in order to hear them.

Kurapika made his way to the front of the sofa, waiting for Chrollo to speak again.

Chrollo’s chest moved up and down, his breaths no longer raggedy. His face was relaxed, a shallow slash near his cheekbone that certainly didn’t mar his appearance. 

“It’s no wonder that girl with the pink hair took so long to leave. He’s that bad boy with the pretty face that they all like,” Bill had joked earlier, his way of trying to ease Kurapika’s worry about the whole situation.

There was truth to Bill’s words. Chrollo’s strong jawline was balanced out in just the right way by the softer angles of his face. His midnight hair fell stylishly over the bandage covering his forehead, evoking the image of a slumbering prince wearing a crown, instead of the remorseless creature that he truly was.

Chrollo’s lips parted slightly. Kurapika kneeled down to listen.

“Kur…a…pika....” Kurapika stilled and felt his eyes widen. “Kur…apika….” Chrollo’s words were soft, like the delicate pappus of a dandelion being carried through the wind.

Kurapika stayed by Chrollo’s side for what must have been minutes, but no other words left Chrollo’s lips.

Chrollo’s eyelids fluttered before opening slowly. Serene gray eyes surveyed the room. He turned his neck to the side, meeting Kurapika’s eyes. Kurapika couldn’t discern any fear nor suspicion. No – just curiosity and intrigue.

“Do you remember what Machi and I told you before you passed out?” Kurapika’s firm, harsh tone broke the unwavering silence.

“Yes.” Chrollo placed his hands over his torso, where Machi had placed the bandages. “You will heal me, and in return I will remove the nen curse that I have placed on Prince Woble. In addition, neither of us will fight each other while on this ship.” A strange smile graced his lips. “But we may fight once the voyage is over.”

Kurapika stood up, towering over Chrollo. “There is no room for disagreement.”

“Did I ever say that there was?” Chrollo mused, his eyes casually flickering over to the curtains on his left. “I may have told you once that the head is not nearly as important as the limbs,” he said, his voice becoming quieter, “but it is much better that four spiders remain than three alone.”

Rage burned in Kurapika’s veins. He was allowing four murderers to live, instead of simply three. He continued speaking in an effort to distract himself from his own temper. “Do you know where you are? We’ve brought you to the –“

“The eighth queen’s quarters. This room is decorated in her style.”

Kurapika stared. “You are familiar with the queen?”

“Oito is my younger sister.”

Before Kurapika even knew what he was doing, he had already grabbed Chrollo by the collar of his shirt.

“You don’t seem to have any qualms about using your family members as bait to lure me out. Do you have no regret in your heart for what you’ve done to your own sister and her child?” Kurapika’s quiet words were more of a threat than a question.

Chrollo’s lips twitched as though he were about to laugh. “This is a strange display. Why would you offer to heal me, only to pick a fight?”

Kurapika only just barely held himself back from punching Chrollo. It took several moments of staring with hatred into Chrollo’s eyes, but he finally released his grasp. Chrollo didn’t wince, or even blink when he was let go of.

“You seem to have a soft spot for Oito,” Chrollo commented, still looking amused. When Kurapika didn’t reply, he continued. “I would like to ask you for a favor.”

“A favor. I’ve already given you a favor by saving your life,” Kurapika said. But his curiosity was peaked.

“I would like to meet my niece.” Chrollo looked at Kurapika expectantly.

“This isn’t a time for jokes –“

“What made you believe that I was joking?” Chrollo’s pleasant tone and calm expression only angered Kurapika further. Was he making fun of him?

“You’re not to see Prince Woble until it is time for you to remove the nen curse. There will be no exceptions.” Kurapika’s voice grew louder with each word he spoke.

“I see.” Chrollo scanned Kurapika’s face, looking for who knew what. “And when will that be?”

“Once you’re fully healed, which will be sometime before everyone else is returned to the ship.”

Chrollo nodded, still wearing that impeccably calm expression.

Anger sparked up within Kurapika, like a lightning bolt piercing through a stormy sky. “How does it feel, to know that your comrades have reached the same fate as my people?”

Chrollo cast his eyes downward, finally showing some hint of the endless sorrow that he must have been trying to process. _It should have been me instead_, Kurapika hoped he thought. _I will never be the same again_, he prayed were the words that would torment Chrollo forever.

“Do you wish that you had been the one to do it?” Chrollo said quietly. His tone didn’t betray any hint of despair nor fury, nor any other emotion.

“I do,” Kurapika’s words were both firm and soft, words that made a deadly promise.

“Wouldn’t that make you just the same as me? Willing to destroy, as long as it satisfies you?” Chrollo laughed briefly to himself. “I know what you’re about to say. That you want to take back what was stolen from you, while I do not have a good reason for the things I do.”

“You had a good reason for slaughtering everyone I knew?” Kurapika kneeled down so that he was at eye level with Chrollo. His voice shook as he balled his fist, the cold metal of his chains digging into his palm.

“The Kurta clan refused to help the residents of Meteor City. But stealing was not beneath them. So, why should it have been beneath me?” Chrollo’s voice was smooth and graceful, like a curse disguised as a lullaby. “You think I’m lying, don’t you? But think back – weren’t there signs that your clan elders ever acted suspiciously?”

Kurapika froze, memories cascading through his mind.

“Kurapika?” came a voice from behind him. “It’s time for us to switch shifts.”

Kurapika felt as though he had been jolted out of reality – a reality where only he and his enemy existed.

“Kurapika?” Bill said again. “Did you hear me?”

“You’re right. I lost track of the time.”

As he stood up, Kurapika remembered something. He locked eyes with Chrollo, both determination and frustration fixing him where he stood. “You were saying my name in your sleep. Why?”

“Are you saying that I talk in my sleep?” The corner of Chrollo’s lips tilted upwards. “Is that why you were so close to me when I woke up? You were listening to me?”

“What were you dreaming about?”

“The first time we met, face to face. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dreamt about it.” Mistaking Kurapika’s silence for confusion, Chrollo continued nonchalantly. “It’s strange, the things our minds choose for us to relive while we’re asleep.”

Kurapika said nothing more. He walked out of the room, pondering the coincidence that both he and his enemy shared the same recurring dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we're finally getting into Kurapika and Chrollo's interactions. What did you guys think?


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re in denial,” Chrollo observed, his voice smoother than the waters upon which they sailed. This was the first thing he said to Kurapika when he finally returned hours later to keep watch over him.

Kurapika refused to look in Chrollo’s direction. Even in the darkness, even from the other side of the room, he could sense Chrollo’s charcoal eyes lingering on his rigid, unmoving figure.

Taking Kurapika’s silence in stride, Chrollo continued. “You remembered. You know that what I said about your clan was true, although you can’t help but hold a grudge. It’s understandable, of course.” Perhaps Chrollo didn’t need his nen abilities to defeat Kurapika – his penchant for one-sided conversations might very well be the death of him instead.

But Chrollo was undeniably…correct.

And Kurapika hated it.

“Come closer,” Chrollo said casually.

Kurapika finally peered up at Chrollo. His aura still glowed weakly, resembling nothing more than faint wisps of smoke. “What?” he snapped, his raspy voice cutting through the air, so at odds with Chrollo’s sophisticated sentence structures and habitually steady tones.

Chrollo’s lips curved upwards. “I was hoping to speak with you.” His words may have seemed like nothing more than idle chat to most, but Kurapika knew better. Only someone like Kurapika could ever know that this was an attempt at distracting oneself from the anguish of losing dear friends.

Needles of guilt pricked his mind. Chrollo had sought revenge in much the same way that Kurapika had…and Kurapika had only just begun to return the favor by disposing of both Uvo and Pakunoda.

He had spent the entire day contemplating Chrollo’s words, realizing that there was evidence for his claims, and trying to push down the sadness and anger that resulted from even attempting to forgive him.

Inexplicably, Kurapika felt himself drawing closer to Chrollo, unable to help his curiosity about this man who possessed the same vengeful heart as Kurapika.

Once at the sofa, Kurapika leaned down so that they were at eye level. The moonlight lit up Chrollo’s high cheekbones and the edges of his pink lips.

“What do you want?” He couldn’t help the way his voice choked on the last word. Images of the day that he’d found out about his clan’s massacre flickered through his mind. The news anchor’s indifferent expression, his twelve-year-old self’s inability to speak, the shattering of the teacup in his stiff hands.

“I’d like to get to know you better. It is rather boring to have no one to speak to all day long, after all.”

Something stirred within Kurapika, and he blinked. His defensiveness only dropped for a moment, but Chrollo took advantage of it.

“Hmm? Well, go on. Tell me what it is you’re thinking.” Chrollo cupped his chin in his palm, studying Kurapika intently like he were an interesting piece of artwork. When Kurapika didn’t answer, he continued. “Me saying that reminded you that you are often lonely, as well. Yes, that must be it.”

It was true. Kurapika had trapped himself inside of his own little world for the past two years, forgetting his friends, closing himself off from new connections. A conversation here, a reluctant joke there, but never any confessions regarding who he really was.

Kurapika fully expected Chrollo to give one of his amused smiles, perhaps the hint of a smirk this time. But he did no such thing. Instead, his face remained thoughtful.

“Who would you be if you weren’t a hunter, Kurapika?” His name sounded like a melody when uttered by Chrollo, the last few syllables composed of nothing more than letters dancing on the wind. “An artist? An inventor, perhaps?”

He looked Chrollo squarely in the face, his gaze unwavering. “I was always meant to be a hunter. Always.”

Chrollo’s eyes sparkled, and then he chuckled, and then the chuckle gave way to full-on laughter. “You say that so defensively. I was merely getting to know you better.”

Kurapika sucked in a sharp breath. Chrollo looked so normal right now, his beauty amplified by his poised levity. In this moment, he could have very well been just another Kakin prince, basking in a good joke made by one of his beloved guards. In this very moment, he couldn’t possibly be the young man who had once been treated cruelly, had sought revenge, and had faced Kurapika’s wrath for seeking said revenge.

When he was finished laughing, he said, “It’s your turn now. Ask me anything you’d like.”

Ask him anything he’d like? It was a dangerous proposition. After all, Kurapika yearned to see more of Chrollo’s vulnerability, wanted to know if he really could shatter like glass when handled the wrong way. “Who do you care the most about in the entire world?”

The light in Chrollo’s eyes flickered out, the only sign that his mood had changed. “It’s difficult to choose. My friends are all very dear to me.” Chrollo gazed into the distance, treasured memories of his late friends most likely weighing on his mind. “Think of two more questions to ask me, and then I’ll ask you two more as well.” His words were directed more to the shadows than to Kurapika, nearly making Kurapika forget that he was being addressed at all.

So there Chrollo was again, hoping to distract himself from his grief by playing a childish game. Kurapika had expected to feel vengeful glee at this, but the look in Chrollo’s eyes reminded him too much of his own reflection in the mirror on that day seven years ago.

Words came to Kurapika easily. “What’s the strangest thing that’s ever happened to you?”

“Meeting someone exactly like me.” Chrollo locked eyes with him. “I’m sure you know what I mean by that.” He ran a hand through his midnight tresses, whispers of a smile threatening to come through. Kurapika found himself staring for longer than was necessary.

He eventually caught himself. “If you could have anything right now, what would it be?”

Chrollo closed his eyes, thinking. “A good rest. Now, it’s my turn. While interesting, your questions have been rather deep. So, here’s one of my own. What is your favorite color?”

Kurapika didn’t completely understand what happened next. He tipped his head back and laughed, partially covering his mouth with a hand, his laugh matching the level of amusement shown by Chrollo earlier. Then, just as quickly as the laugh had started, it had ended.

What was wrong with him? Kurapika stilled his features, gazing at the floor, his voice now a fortress of ice sealed shut. “It’s blue, if you want to know so badly.”

“I should have guessed.” Chrollo’s eyes were lit with faint surprise when Kurapika did decide to look up. Chrollo’s eyes closed once more. “Who was the last person you ever had feelings for?” His words faded away into whispers, bringing him to the edge of sleep.

Feelings. The monster was asking him about feelings. “What would you say if it were Oito?” The playful words were uttered in a monotone as Kurapika failed at deciding which emotions to convey and which to conceal.

Chrollo’s lips quirked up slightly as he faded off into what Kurapika hoped would be endless nightmares. “I would say that you have my blessing, but only if you’re willing to deal with Nasubi first.”

With that, he descended into sleep, leaving Kurapika to his tangled web of thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of Kurapika and Chrollo's characterization? Was it believable?  
Thanks to everyone who's been reading this story and leaving kudos - I really appreciate it!


	6. Chapter 6

Doused in a haze of sleepiness, Kurapika didn’t mind Bill’s glaring absence now that the time to switch shifts had arrived. What point was there in leaving Chrollo’s side when Kurapika would be brooding over him in the other room anyways?

Brooding, not trying to calm the rapidly beating chaos that was his heart.

The door cracked ajar, revealing Fugetsu, holding a squirming Woble close to her. “Bill fell asleep. Do you want me to wake him up?” 

A sudden alertness pierced him. He felt exposed, caught in a secret. But there was nothing to hide. Nothing was going on in this room, or in his mind, that shouldn’t be.

Nothing between him and his enemy was amiss.

Before he could reply, Chrollo’s voice startled him. “I suspect that he remained awake the entire night, worried about you.” He was just filled with opinions, wasn’t he?

Chrollo leaned against the windowsill, looking like a model in some fashion magazine as the sun highlighted his angular features. His aura blared with three-quarters the intensity it usually did, and it only heightened his good looks.

Needless to say, Kurapika redirected his train of thought. “There’s no need to disturb Bill. Let’s let him rest.”

Chrollo took slow steps forward, one hand resting in the pocket of his dress pants. One could almost think that he belonged here, that he commanded this space. “I can’t imagine that Kurapika has the right temperament for dealing with children, but you two seem to be in one piece.” He smiled. Good grief, when was he ever not smiling? 

Woble reached her arms out to Chrollo, giggling. There was no softness in Chrollo’s eyes when his gaze landed on her - it was the same detached calmness he displayed around everyone.

“Chrollo.” Kurapika had never uttered that name aloud before. A shudder struck through him. “Prince Woble seems to have taken a liking to you. Why don’t you hold her for a bit?”

Gray eyes settled on him. Kurapika wouldn’t have been surprised if he knew what he was trying to do. 

When Fugetsu placed Woble into Chrollo’s arms, Kurapika could only stare. 

“Shh,” he said, bouncing her gently, and her laughter faded into coos. He appraised her the way he appraised treasure - with calculation. “She looks like you,” he said, turning to Kurapika as the baby in question yanked Chrollo’s tie and began to chew on it. 

Well. What did he expect him to say to that?

.........

When the sisters left, Kurapika was met with his enemy’s voice again. 

“I wonder what all that was about. Hmm?” He always spoke so softly. Almost like he wanted to trap Kurapika under a veil of clouds. He perched on the armrest of the sofa, dark hair falling across his forehead. Regal, refined, even after casting aside his tie and suit jacket.

“It was a test. And you failed. Abysmally.”

Chrollo sighed, standing up straighter. “Always dancing around the truth, I see.” His eyes were playful. “It’s no wonder I’m the only one who enjoys listening to you.”

“You love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” 

Chrollo wasn’t smiling anymore. “You were curious to see how I’d interact with her.” He stepped closer, his smoky irises smoldering. “I’m not the type to nurture and coddle. I can’t imagine that that fact would make my admirers’ hearts melt.”

Kurapika crossed his arms, waiting. “And? Why the hell are you telling me all of this?” 

“Because you enjoy my company.”

He blinked a few times as Chrollo sat there with a straight face. “What gives you that impression?” Oh God, why was he engaging him? At this rate, he’d never stop talking.

“That little girl, Fugetsu. I wonder how much attention you’ve given her since I arrived? And Bill - I can’t imagine you’ve had too many heart-to-hearts with him.” Chrollo brushed a finger against a lock of blond hair, and Kurapika took a step backwards. “I think isolation has driven you mad, Kurapika. It’s driven you to me.”

He could have protested. He should have. But there was no point.

Chrollo was observant, practically omniscient. He would see through all the lies.

He could see lean muscle underneath that white button-down, could see the slope of blush-colored lips and the curve of each dark eyelash. It was easy to forget that he liked possessing pretty things for a while before walking away from them.

His beating heart wanted him to do something reckless, something more to do with impulse than logic. But he turned away.

And then, Chrollo strode forward, gripping his arm and roughly turning him around.

His fingers skimmed Kurapika’s torso, making their way to just past his navel. He let his hand linger there, motionless, as he brought his lips to the side of Kurapika’s neck.

“_Stop_,” he hissed. He shoved Chrollo backwards until he was pressed against the wall, Kurapika pinning his arms to his sides. Bruises must have been beginning to blossom in the places that Kurapika touched, perhaps ones that resembled the new mark on his neck. “What will you do if I let go?”

“Whatever you’d like.” His eyes were clouded over with desire.

Kurapika’s fingers danced over Chrollo’s waistband, before wrenching it down. Chrollo was hard, just as much as Kurapika was, and it was hard to breathe when all he wanted was to let Chrollo run wild. To let him do whatever it was he’d been about to do to Kurapika.

But he was never going to let him get the better of him again. When his homeland was destroyed, he was caught unawares. This time, he was in control.

He took his length – beautiful, like hardened marble – into his mouth. Nearly all the way.

A shuddering gasp left Chrollo’s lips. More than aware of his own arousal, Kurapika’s head moved up and down, Chrollo delicately sifting his hands through Kurapika’s hair as he did so.

Delicately? Now, that was no good, was it? He grazed his teeth ever so slightly, and Chrollo yanked Kurapika’s head forward, his breaths becoming erratic.

_Ah. So you like to play rough. _The hint of a smile overcame Kurapika’s face as he gripped the base of Chrollo’s hardness firmly, sucking intensely.

When Chrollo came, Kurapika turned his head, the bright white substance landing on the side of his face. He felt it leaking down his skin, warm to the touch, landing on the black carpet.

Their gazes collided. They both knew who’d won.


End file.
